Page 9

NINE

B ess’s thoughts collided like a twenty-car pileup on a foggy highway. Marry? As in wedding bells, vows, and till-death-do-us-part? With a bear shifter prince she had known for approximately eight hours?

The transport’s plush leather seat suddenly felt too soft, like she might sink into it and disappear. Outside the tinted windows, alien trees with luminescent purple leaves cast eerie shadows as they drove, making the moment feel even more surreal.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Charov’s deep voice broke through her internal panic. His massive frame took up more than his fair share of the backseat, his knee occasionally brushing against hers with each turn of the vehicle. “Did Gerri not discuss the arrangement?”

Bess studied the intricate patterns on the transport’s ceiling, buying more time. Her heart thundered in her chest. Gerri hadn’t said anything about marriage. An adventure, yes. A date with an alien bear shifter prince, absolutely. But a wedding? That detail had mysteriously been left out of the brochure.

“Bess?” Charov leaned forward, those impossibly blue eyes searching her face. The movement brought his scent closer—something wild and earthy that made her dizzy in ways she couldn’t explain.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” Her voice came out smaller than she meant, barely audible above the hum of the transport’s engine.

Charov’s brow furrowed, creating a small crease between his eyes. “What exactly did Gerri tell you about coming here?”

Bess shifted on the seat, her blouse rustling softly. “She mentioned an adventure. Meeting you. Nothing about...” She gestured vaguely with her hands, unable to even say the word marriage without her brain short-circuiting.

His jaw twitched beneath his smooth bronze skin. “That’s not like Gerri.”

“I need to talk to her.” Bess twisted her hands in her lap, her mind racing through a thousand scenarios, none of them ending with her becoming an alien queen.

Charov’s large hand moved toward hers, then stopped, hovering inches away before retreating. “Of course.”

The transport curved around a bend, revealing the gleaming spires of Mavac Castle in the distance, its crystalline towers catching the moonlight of the twin moons. It was breathtaking—and terrifying.

“I understand this is sudden,” Charov said, his voice gentler than before, though still carrying that undercurrent of authority that seemed to be his default setting. “But my father doesn’t have much time, and I promised him?—”

“I can’t just marry someone I’ve barely met,” Bess blurted out, finally finding her voice. “Even if you are...” she gestured at his entire presence, from his chiseled jawline to his broad shoulders, “...all of this.”

A flash of something—amusement?—crossed his face. “All of what, exactly?”

Bess felt heat crawl up her neck. “I need to speak with Gerri first,” she repeated firmly, choosing to ignore his question.

Charov nodded once. “Fair enough. But know this—Gerri Wilder doesn’t make mistakes. If she brought you to me, there’s a reason.”

The certainty in his voice sent a shiver down Bess’s spine. She turned to look out the window, watching the glittering castle grow larger. The night sky of Nova Aurora cast everything in a silvery-blue glow, making the landscape look like something from a dream—or perhaps a nightmare, considering she was apparently expected to marry an alien prince she had just met.

Charov cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him. The formality that had stiffened his posture earlier had mysteriously melted away. He leaned toward her, his massive frame somehow less intimidating now that the tension had left his shoulders.

“You know,” he said, a hint of mischief flickering in those impossibly blue eyes, “I’m not always this boring. Promise.”

Despite herself, Bess felt a small smile tug at her lips. “Is that right?”

“Last month I went cliff diving in the Cerulean Canyons.” His voice dropped an octave, taking on a silky quality that sent unexpected heat crawling up her spine. “The drop is three times higher than anything on Earth, and the water below is inhabited by creatures with tentacles longer than this transport.”

Bess’s eyes widened. “And you jumped into that? Voluntarily?”

“Not only jumped—I did a backflip.” He grinned, showing perfect white teeth. There was something almost predatory in that smile that made her heart rate accelerate. “The rush is indescribable.”

The transport curved, and Charov’s thigh pressed briefly against hers. Even through the fabric of her skirt, the contact sent electricity shooting through her body. She shifted slightly, trying to ignore how her skin tingled where they had touched.

“What else do you do for fun?” she asked, genuinely curious now. “Besides risking your royal neck.”

“Glacier surfing. Desert racing. Zero-gravity combat training.” His eyes never left hers as he listed each activity, his deep voice flowing over her like warm honey. “My father always said I have the soul of an explorer trapped in the body of a crown prince.”

When he mentioned his father, something tender flashed across his features—a glimpse of the pain he was carrying. Bess felt a stab of sympathy.

“They sound like they are good parents,” she said softly.

“The best.” Charov gazed out at the night sky for a moment. “My mother taught me compassion. My father taught me courage. They ruled side by side as equals—true partners in every sense.”

The wistfulness in his voice made something ache in Bess’s chest. He wasn’t just losing a king or a father—he was losing a role model for what love could be.

“And what did they think of your death-defying hobbies?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Charov laughed, the sound rich and deep. “My mother banned the royal guards from accompanying me after the third one broke his leg trying to keep up. Said it was either let me go alone or fund an entire hospital wing just for my security detail.”

Bess couldn’t help laughing along with him. This was a different man than the stiff, formal prince who had escorted her around the castle. This version of Charov radiated life and energy that was magnetic.

“Look,” he said, suddenly serious, leaning close enough that she could feel his breath caress her cheek. “I know this situation is far from ideal. But I want you to know—I’m not the cold bore you met at dinner. I don’t know what I was thinking. But I’d like the chance to show you who I really am.”

The intensity in his gaze made Bess’s breath catch. There was something raw and honest in his expression that hadn’t been there before. The bear shifter prince was showing her his true self in this moment—not the polished royal, but the man beneath the crown.

She wasn’t sure what to make of him yet. But she was certainly more intrigued than she had been an hour ago.

The transport finally came to a stop at the castle’s grand entrance. Bess’s stomach knotted as two imposing guards pulled open the doors. Charov stepped out first, then extended his hand to her. His palm was warm as he engulfed her fingers completely, helping her from the vehicle.

“I’ll have someone show you to your quarters,” he said, his voice low and intimate. His broad frame blocked the cool night air, creating a pocket of heat between them. “We can continue our conversation tomorrow after you’ve rested.”